


constellations

by agentcalliope



Series: all you have is your fire (and the place you need to reach) [4]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Canon Compliant, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, obligatory suki finds out about zuko's scar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25532335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentcalliope/pseuds/agentcalliope
Summary: Suki wonders about Zuko, and if he remembers all his stories and how they came to be written on his skin.But she knows, really, that he’s like her— and there are simply too many to remember.(Suki and Zuko talk about their scars and the stars in the sky.)
Relationships: Suki & Zuko (Avatar)
Series: all you have is your fire (and the place you need to reach) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1808362
Comments: 71
Kudos: 777





	constellations

They are scattered across her skin like stars across the sky.

On Suki’s right arm, there’s the long jagged one that stretches from her wrist to her elbow. That one’s the oldest, she knows. It was also an accident, she remembers. Six years old, she had climbed the tallest tree in the forest because she wanted to know what it was like to be at the top of the world. The top of the world had, in fact, a very sudden and very scary drop.

The ones that dots her jaw, faint and small, are from when she tripped over boots too big and landed face first onto the ground. She was too old for that kind of mistake— maybe nine? She’s embarrassed to tell the people who ask. Warriors, especially Kyoshi warriors, especially Kyoshi warrior leaders, do not trip over their own boots. Even if those boots did not fit, and were big, and she was small.

Then, there’s the thin, silver one that lines her left wrist. That one was an accident, too. She was training with the girls, and someone slashed her with the tip of a fan. She thinks she was probably twelve, maybe thirteen, but doesn’t know for sure.

And then there’s the mottled angry burn that rests across her left thigh, and it’s not the only one she’s got. A burn, that is. And well, that one wasn’t an accident at all. Blue flame devoured green armor, and Suki didn't stop fighting until she couldn’t get back up, and she  _ burned  _ for it. Kyoshi Island joins the war late, but does not leave unscathed. 

For every scar on Suki’s body that has a story, there are three more that do not. There they are, speckled across her flesh, bright and white and red. They are on her stomach, on her knees, on her feet. Lines peppered across her back and legs, fingers and toes. Splattered across her chest, shoulders and hands. She is a constellation flickering in the dark, night sky.

She wonders about Zuko, and if he remembers all his stories and how they came to be written on his skin.

(but she knows, really, that he’s like her— and there are simply too many to remember)

***

It’s a quiet night, but Suki doesn’t let that fool her. It’s time for her shift and she’s running just a tad late, so she hurries quickly along the empty hallways. They are lit with torches that flash in the darkness, and cast shadows on the walls and the floor. She doesn’t need the light, really. Suki knows the way like the back of her hand, and could do it even in the darkness. Once she turns the corner, and races up the steps, she catches sight of the Firelord’s private chamber and slows down to a walk. She brushes down her dress and straightens her headpiece, throwing her shoulders back and lifting her chin.

Mingmei is there, waiting, and as Suki approaches, she bows and smiles. Suki returns both the bow and the smile. “Go get some rest,” she says, gesturing towards the stairs with a nod of her head. “It’s my turn.” The girl nods in agreement and then leaves, leaving Suki to take her place. Once she’s gone, her form vanishing as she walks down the stairs, Suki knocks quietly and pushes Zuko’s bedroom door open. “Firelord Zuko. How are you doing, sir?”

There’s a breeze where there shouldn’t be, and no response. The room is empty.

Suki immediately pulls out her fans and moves into a defensive position, scouring the scene with trained eyes. A quick scope of the room reveals to her that there’s no sign of a struggle. She straightens out her body but leaves her fans spread open, still at her sides. The bedcovers are neatly pulled back on the bed in a way that tells her that Zuko had been laying down, and had gotten up himself. The desk is messy, papers sprawled unorganized across, but that’s not quite out of the ordinary either. Suki walks further into the room, making note of the pristine condition, and knows exactly where to look next.

After all, there are no candles and torches lighting the room, and the light must be coming from somewhere.

After all, it’s not the first time he’s done this.

Oh. She's going to  _ kill _ him.

Light spills in through the open window, the curtains billowing with a welcoming breeze. As she makes her way over, Suki folds her fans and places them back in the straps, and then lays her hands on the ledge, leaning out. She peers into the night, and sees a figure sitting there, silent on the roof.

She swallows the urge to call out his name, race over to him, and smack him upside the head—  _ what is wrong with you,  _ Suki would hiss, dragging him inside by the ear,  _ what were you thinking? you gotta stop leaving without saying anything one day it’s going to be assassins or worse what are we going to do when it’s assassins or worse what am I going to do how will I protect you? _

Instead, Suki shakes her head and pulls herself up and out the window, walking across the roof tiles to where Zuko sits.

He looks back to her and says nothing as she takes a seat besides him. With the light of the full moon she can see his features clearly— his ruffled sleeping clothes, bare feet, tired eyes—and she silently thanks Yue for the help. She doesn’t need the light, of course. Doesn’t need it at all. But, sometimes, it’s nice to have.

“Hey, Suki.” Zuko says, and Suki narrows her eyes at the sheepish expression he actually has the  _ audacity  _ to give her right now.

“Don’t ‘hey Suki me’, sir,” she hisses and jabs a finger into his chest, “You have to stop sneaking out like that. What if Mingmei had peeked in instead of me and saw you were gone?”

Zuko just huffs and bats away her finger, rolling his eyes. “You know I hate it when you call me ‘sir’, Suki.”

“Don’t change the subject,  _ sir _ . This is the second time you’ve snuck out without telling any of us. You can’t keep doing that. What if you got kidnapped? Or  _ worse _ ?”

Zuko ignores her question and looks up at the sky. “Do you know any?” He asks, his voice soft with question. Suki bites down on her scolding words and decides to save them for later, when the moon isn’t so beautiful, and the sky isn’t so calm and full of stars.

…And when Zuko doesn’t have something on his mind, that’s keeping him up at night.

“Constellations?” Suki glances up and tilts her head, searching the sky with trained eyes. Then shakes her head, and turns back to Zuko. “No. Didn’t have a lot of time to do that kind of thing.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Zuko shifts, staring forward at nothing, instead of up, at nothing, and Suki braces herself for whatever he’s going to say next. Her hands twitch at her sides, as if whatever’s bothering Zuko could be fought, and she would win. 

“I had a nightmare and couldn’t go back to sleep. That’s why I’m up here. Last time, too. It helped— to be alone, and look at the sky. It makes me feel… small. But in a good way.”

“Oh.” She hesitates, and then for a moment pinches the bridge of her nose and squeezes her eyes shut. “Okay. I forgive you.  _ This _ time. But I still don’t like it, and you can’t do it again.”

“That’s fair.” He agrees. “I understand. It is a bit reckless of me, and childish to not think of the consequences. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

And then Zuko blinks. And swallows. And touches his scar with a steady hand that should tremble, although it does not.

Suki moves closer, as close as she can. Above them, the moon and stars shine bright.

“I have nightmares about a lot of things, actually. Sometimes it’s about my mother, and she’s in some kind of danger, and I can’t figure what it is in time. Or, I can’t save her in time.” Zuko says. “Sometimes, it's one of you, or Azula, or Uncle. All the mistakes I make,  _ made _ , are permanent and there isn’t a way to save any of you. It hurts, really, really bad.” 

He pauses, and tears his hand away from his face. Pulls up his knees, and wraps his arms around them. “But those nightmares— I know they’re just nightmares. I have  _ The One. _ The one that hurts the most. It’s where I’m kneeling on the floor, and he’s standing above me. He’s so big, and I’m so small. One hand holds my hair, and the other holds my face. I’m crying, and begging for his forgiveness. It does nothing. The pain,” his voice cracks. “The burning, blistering agony.”

Suki’s hands close on her fans, and she grips them with an iron grasp.

They sit there, just them with the moon and the stars and the haunting, deafening silence.

“That’s not a dream, was it? That’s what really happened.”

“Yes.”

“Was it the first time he hurt you?”

“No. But it was the first to scar.”

When she finds herself able to speak, it is not in a whisper, although it should be. She knows why, and she wills herself to let go of her fans, just for this moment. “I was nine years old, when I got this scar.” Zuko turns to look at her while she takes the sleeve of her dress to wipe the paint off her jaw, waiting patiently as he leans in to peer at her skin. Like his hand before, her’s does not tremble, although it should. “When the healers asked, I told them that I tripped over my boots, because they were too big and didn’t fit right. That’s what I told anyone who asked. If you tell a lie over and over again, you start to believe it, too.” Suki finds it easy to look into his eyes, and doesn’t have to wonder why that is. “But, really, it was my father. He was drunk and got angry at me. I don’t remember why, but he was. And he threw his mug at my head. That was the first one to scar, too.”

She lies down slowly until her back hits the roof, and crosses her arms behind her head. Looks up at the sky, and wishes she knew how to find the constellations. “I ran away a few months after that. Lived on the streets for a while. I found my way to Kyoshi Island, because I had heard that they were welcoming orphans and unwanted children, especially girls. And the girls were being trained to become warriors. So, I left. And I found my home.”

Zuko lies down besides her, and exhales. She doesn’t have to wonder if he wishes he knew how to pick out the constellations, too. 

“So, you understand.” His voice is quiet, when he speaks.

“A bit, yeah.” Her voice is soft, when she responds.

(they are both constellations— flickering in dark, night sky)

A pause. “How do you sleep at night?”

“You learn.” Suki answers instantly. “The nightmares, and the lies you tell, they don’t go away. Even when you dream less and less, and you realize the lies are  _ lies _ , they will never go. But you already know that.”

“Yeah.”

“It’ll get easier. You’ll learn how to sleep, eventually.” Suki sits up and then stands, dusting off her dress, although it’s not dirty at all. “It’s late, and you have a busy day tomorrow.” She reaches out her hand, and meets his eyes. “Come on, Zuko. Time to learn.”

Zuko takes her hand and lets her pull him up. There’s a slight smile on his face when he says, “You didn’t call me sir.”

“My apologies, Your Majesty.”

He laughs, and follows her off the roof, through the window. After they both climb inside, Suki closes and locks it. The curtains fall still, blocking out the moon’s glow. It is dark, but Suki is a Kyoshi warrior, and a leader of the Kyoshi warriors, so she doesn’t need a light to do what she can do with her eyes closed.

She pulls back the sheets as Zuko stands by, and when he lies down he allows her to cover him.

His eyes burn through the darkness. “Thank you.”

“Next time you can’t sleep, I’ll be here. We can go to the roof and look at the stars together.” Suki bows. “Goodnight, Zuko.”

And when she leaves, and takes her position outside his door with her fans at her sides, war paint on her face, and constellations on her skin– Suki whispers to her friend.

“No one will ever hurt you again.”

She imagines that her eyes burn through the darkness, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Luka, Em, Kim and Alex for reading this through and encouraging me. And thank you, Reader!


End file.
